


Coping Mechanism

by Unread



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Awkward Confession, Blood, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unread/pseuds/Unread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom's locked in a cellar with Hal and some dead bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping Mechanism

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this on tumblr and now am posting this here on a (probably misguided) whim. Title is from the badass Shovels & Rope song.

 

They’re locked in a meat cellar. A freezing cold room in which three dead human bodies are hanging from hooks like cows in an abattoir. Blood leaks steadily out of their slashed throats, pooling on the tiled floor. It’s deliberate, Tom knows. They want Hal to drink.

Hal’s eyes are black, and it’s taking every ounce of Tom’s strength to hold him back. No matter how much Tom yells and pushes and tries to talk him out of it, Hal is still getting reeled in by the blood. The smell of it is thick in the air, even to Tom’s waning-moon-dulled senses. He doesn’t want to lose Hal to it again, and Tom knows that Hal doesn’t want to be lost, either. He knows that once Hal drinks, he won’t stop.

He grasps Hal’s jaw with one hand and forces Hal to look at him, instead of at the bodies. Tom had always thought the black eyes of a vampire were creepy, like when he was a kid and scared of the dark of the woods, and McNair wouldn’t let him leave the lantern on, said it were a waste of batteries. Vampire eyes were like looking into those dark woods, nothingness where there should be something.

But on Hal’s face it’s different. He knows Hal, now. He knows that the calm hazel eyes are hiding somewhere beneath the black. Hal just needs help — in this case, Tom — to bring them, _him_ , back to the surface. Except Tom doesn’t have a matchbox this time, and he doesn’t think that any amount of domino-fiddling or washing dishes would distract Hal at this point anyway.

But this just might, if only for a minute. So he blurts, “I think ‘bout you,” and feels his face heat. He thinks that Hal’s too far gone to care about anything now anyway, that it’s too late, but he still has to try. Even if it’s horribly shameful. “You know, when I…er. You know. Have a wank.”

Hal’s eyes, which had been fixed on one of the bodies even though Tom’s grip is still angling Hal’s face toward Tom, swivel and centre on him. It’s hard to hold eye contact with their impersonal black sheen, no visible pupils to focus on, and Tom just really wants Hal, _his_ Hal, back. So he continues, “I dunno why, really. Never thought about a bloke before. I didn’t mean to, just happened one day, and now, uh. Nothing else works as good.”

Tom knows he’s blushing like mad, and he can’t help it. He’d felt terrible about touching himself to thoughts of Hal when it’d first happened, and every time after that, but still hadn’t been able to stop doing it. Maybe it was a little like how Hal felt around blood. It was addicting. And it made Tom feel like he was betraying their friendship. It’s almost a relief to finally own up to it — or would be if it wasn’t so terrifying. But there’s no going back now, so he says, “I think ‘bout kissing you all the time, like.”

It’s dead quiet in the room now, because Tom’s holding his breath and he’s pretty sure that Hal doesn’t need to breathe if he doesn’t want to. Hal’s eyes haven’t left his, and Tom hopes he isn’t pissed off. Dealing with an angry vampire is a lot trickier than a hungry one. But Tom wouldn’t really blame him if he was. He’s the one who shouldn’t be thinking about his best mate like that. Maybe it’s a good thing, this confession, maybe knowing that Hal knows will stop him from doing it again. That is, if he gets out of this cellar in one piece.

They stand there, staring at each other, until an uncontrollable shiver manages to wrack through Tom’s hot embarrassment — they are in a giant fridge after all — and he momentarily breaks eye contact with Hal. That’s all it takes for Hal’s gaze to shift back to the dripping corpses.

Tom considers his options, very briefly. He’d rather have Hal angry at him than lose him to bloodlust like this. It might end up destroying their friendship, but drinking blood would destroy Hal, which would be heaps worse. He needs to keep Hal’s attention on him for as long as he can.

“Sod it,” he says, and pulls Hal’s face close so he can press their lips together.

Hal’s mouth is cool and soft, and there’s the faintest rasp of stubble on his upper lip. Tom feels Hal go completely still, and waits to be pushed away. Tom’s lost his nerve anyway, his heart’s beating so fast he can feel it bashing against his ribs. He’s been in more life-threatening situations than he can remember, but he’s never been as scared as this. He can’t even enjoy it, not if Hal’s not enjoying it. Tom pulls back, and he’s almost too afraid to look Hal in the eyes, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

Hal’s face is frozen in shock. His eyes - normal, hazel eyes - are wide and stare back at Tom. Tom’s feeling pretty bloody shocked himself, from the kiss itself and also the fact that it actually seems to have jarred Hal from his bloodlust.

They’re still close enough that Tom can feel Hal’s heavy breaths on his face - Hal seems to have resumed mimicking human bodily functions, which can only be a good sign, probably.

Tom starts to back away, but then Hal bursts into motion, hands shooting out to grab at Tom’s shirt and pull him back. His lips press against Tom’s again, and this time Hal’s mouth opens and invites Tom in. This time, it’s bloody fantastic.

“Whoa,” says Alex’s familiar voice from out of nowhere.

Tom breaks the kiss guiltily and pushes at Hal’s chest to get a bit of distance. Hal’s eyes are still hazel and human-looking, focused entirely on him, but they retain some of their glazed fixation — only this time, it’s on Tom’s mouth. Tom keeps his hands gripped in Hal’s jacket, just in case, as he turns to look at Alex.

“You took your bloody time, didn’t you? I could barely keep him from drinkin’ again,” he says, trying to sound annoyed instead of embarrassed. It didn’t seem to work all that well.

Alex crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “Oi, I just had to rent-a-ghost the twenty henchmen out there into a _lake_. I’m pretty sure they were the sodding vampire mafia or something. It was not fun. And it looks to me like you were doing a pretty, ahem, _thorough_ job of stopping him. With your mouth.”

“Alright, alright,” Tom mutters, his face burning. That was okay, really, because he was feeling a bit chilly anyway. “Let’s get out of here then.”

“Yes, let’s,” Hal says, and he’s still staring at Tom like he hung the moon. It’s weird. And sort of wrong. Tom thinks maybe he’s broken him or something.

“Geez, did you break him or something?” Alex says, and Tom startles a bit and wonders if mind-reading is a ghostly power. Nah, she would’ve said something by now, considering how many times he’s accidentally thought about Hal with no clothes on. Sometimes those kinds of things were impossible to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say boo! to me on [tumblr](http://lookslikeaquentinblakedrawing.tumblr.com/)


End file.
